


I'll Pretend That You Do

by JazzKat1213



Series: Broken Thrones [3]
Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: (But like it's sad and heart breaking so), (This isn't healthy but I don't care), Alternative Scene, Angst, Emotional Hurt, F/F, First Kiss, Mutual Pining, Season 4 divergence, They make out on a throne what do you want from me?, Unsaid feelings, not really any comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:42:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26268187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JazzKat1213/pseuds/JazzKat1213
Summary: Alternative first kiss forYou Should See Me In A Crown. (Takes place in chapter 5)
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Series: Broken Thrones [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1908466
Comments: 8
Kudos: 77





	I'll Pretend That You Do

**Author's Note:**

> Got overwhelmed with the need for them to kiss so I wrote this. (My friend said they wouldn't kiss at their lowest points so you got what you got instead.)
> 
> I'm aware this is kinda dodgy, very unhealthy and at first not exactly consensual but like their whole relationship at this point is a fucked up mess. There is no fluff here.

* * *

***Catra***

* * *

“If you don’t come willingly…”

“I’m going to Brightmoon in chains either way, aren’t I?”

Adora doesn’t move but she assumes that means yes, it’s better than she deserves, she knows that. She doesn’t think there’s any fight left in her. That flame’s been extinguished by the wind at the top of the mountain she’s been climbing her whole life. 

“I’m done making excuses for you Catra. But I’m not done with you. You can still get forgiveness if you’re willing to work for it.” 

She feels the movement in the air and she thinks (hopes) that Adora was trying to reach for her, but the contact never comes. She doesn’t know how to feel about it. She misses her so badly but the thought of being close to her again only to lose it, for good this time, is just so much worse. 

Catra still isn’t looking at her face but that doesn’t seem to matter, she still sees the tears that drip onto the floor. “Please Catra, please say you’ll try and fix this because I can’t do what I have to if you don’t.”

Oh. Adora’s meant to kill her, that’s why she didn’t say anything. She probably ought to feel more. She can die here, quickly, and have the last thing she ever sees be Adora’s tear stained face. Not She-Ra and her blazing electric blue eyes full of disdain - no, _Adora_. Just Adora, one last time. Her next breath shakes as she pictures it. It sounds like more than she deserves. 

She’s hurt Adora so much, and Adora’s always had the power to stop her from doing it again. But she hasn’t. Even when they’re fighting there’s something there that _lets_ Catra do those awful things. She’s never really considered why. She doesn’t even consider it now. Too much of her own longing and false hope will stain whatever answer she finds. 

Adora falls to her knees before the Horde throne, gripping at her legs and hiding her face in Catra’s knees, soaking the fabric. It’s possibly the last thing Catra ever expected her to do. If she didn’t know what the world ending feels like she’d think that this is it. It’s like Adora’s hands carve her heart out of her chest and any anger she still had left freezes over. She was right; this is so much worse. It’s the first time she’s touched her like this in she doesn’t know how long. She’s forgotten how it feels to have Adora touch her like she needs her; like she _wants_ her to be close to her. 

“Please, Catra, please say you’ll try I can’t - I can’t do this without you, I can’t _kill_ you, I’m not strong enough I - I told everyone I would do what needs to be done. I always do what _has_ to be done but I just - I can’t do _that_ , not to you. I -”

There’s nothing left to break inside her and yet the words and the pleading and the cracked cries are devastating in a way she’s never felt. Whatever shards are left inside her disintegrate under Adora’s voice and she sobs again, eyes begging for the release of tears she can’t give. 

She’s never seen Adora like this. And she supposes Adora’s never seen _her_ like this. Catra knows she’s as selfish as they come, so much in fact that she never even considered that Adora was hurting as well, beyond the pain that she inflicted. But here she is, Etheria’s saviour, Shadow Weaver’s golden child, broken and crying just like she is. Weak and unable to do what she’s been told she should do, just like her. She doesn’t think she’s ever understood her more. 

She can’t speak, but her thoughts are loud enough she might as well have said them: _‘I’ll try. I’ll be better for you. I can’t kill you either. I know I ought to. You’re all I ever truly wanted. I’ve spent so long denying that. Can you ever forgive me?'_

“Adora?” A head of blonde hair raises and even with her chin still on her chest, Catra can see the overwhelming amount of pure hope there. Sees it in the way her lips fall open, in the shine of her eyes and her hands that hold tight enough to crush.

And she’s a fool for her. A desperate, lovesick, heartbroken fool for this woman.

Her hands shake when she retracts her claws for what might be the first time in months, they shudder in the air until they land either side of Adora’s face, and Catra doesn’t even know how many times she’s wanted to do this. And there’s nothing left to stop herself. She knows she’s touched Adora’s hair before but she was stupid enough not to memorize the feeling of it. It means she’s leaning closer to be able to wind it into her hands and she can see the way Adora’s eyes flick between hers trying to figure out what she’s doing. But Catra doesn’t know and so neither does she. 

_‘I’m going to tell you that I’ll try, I want your forgiveness, I want everything you’ll let me have.’_

It just comes out as a few small, rapid nods paired with a small smile. And gods the utter elation on Adora’s face makes everything else fall away. She did that - Adora is smiling because of her again. It’s the best thing she’s ever felt.

But Catra is still herself, and she makes mistakes, over and over and over. She doesn’t know how to stop. She ruins things, Shadow Weaver told her that a long time ago. She’s selfish, and mean and she’s going to be locked away forever for everything she’s done. And she’s okay with that. But it means that this might be the last time she ever has Adora this close to her. She’s too tired to stop herself, too selfish not to give in to what she’s wanted for as long as she can remember, too bad a person to care when she drags Adora closer and kisses her. 

Gods she doesn’t know why she’s doing this. 

_‘Yes you do.’_

She doesn’t understand _how_ she could’ve done this, Adora’s offering her another chance and instead of taking at face value she’s done _this_? 

She hears static in her ears, and tastes salt on her lips, only knowing it belongs to Adora because she _can’t_. There’s still a very real possibility that she’ll die before she ever gets to Brightmoon and she _doesn’t care_. If she dies now she’ll have done this, she’ll die knowing what it’s like to _kiss Adora_. And the way Adora freezes, the way they both stop breathing altogether, isn’t enough for Catra to let her go. She feels like she’s burning her whole world to the ground and she doesn’t care. Ending their universe didn’t taste like wishes and childhood memories and the love she’ll never have from her.

When Adora first walked in, Catra thought there were only two options to how this would end. Adora sees the shell of what she becomes and leaves once again, without a look back, and she dies here on this throne, slowly decaying to a skeleton. Or Adora locks her up in a Brightmoon cell and leaves her there for the rest of her days. Either way her life ends slowly and alone. 

But Adora was meant to kill her with the blade she’s blamed for ruining her life. The sword that's gone now, taking She-Ra with it. Which she now realises is probably the only reason for her being offered another chance because by the gods does she not deserve it. Not from anyone, _especially_ not from Adora.

She tells herself this is a goodbye in a way. When it’s over she’ll pretend it never happened, she’ll let Adora go and live her life outside of the cell walls Catra will willingly throw herself behind. She’ll try not to be angry with her - she’s so sick of being angry with her. She doesn’t know if she forgives Adora yet, but she’s willing to try. And once this is over she’ll have the rest of her life to do just that; try. 

But it’s not over yet, Adora’s breathing against her because Adora _isn’t pulling away._

Adora is kissing her back. 

And the entire world ends. 

She doesn’t want it to stop - never wants this to stop - but she herself is frozen. Adora’s hair runs through her fingers like water when she pulls back. She could’ve done that the whole time, but she didn’t. And Catra (and her fucked up, dying sensibilities) can’t make any sense of any of it. 

Adora looks...scared. And it’s so much more painful this close, it’s there in the tear-shine of her eyes and the slant of her lips and the stuttering of her breath. 

“Catra what -”

Something takes a hold, and she understands Adora’s fear, feels it herself, but she surrenders to it. Maybe she lets loose a growl, maybe a sob but whatever it is, it makes Adora’s eyes widen. She leans back into the metal they once promised to share - the metal they’re sharing right now because she pulls Adora with her and _she lets her_. She forces herself not to show her surprise that Adora follows willingly. Her knees settle either side of hers and it almost makes her cry again. She’s not sure why. 

She can’t help it when her claws dig into Adora’s arms, doesn’t even bother to fight it when she presses their foreheads together. Neither of them close their eyes - it’s too dangerous to - and it means that Catra can watch the next tear that spills from ice-blue eyes and rolls down Adora’s cheek. And somehow she’s the most beautiful thing Catra’s ever seen. 

Adora looks as confused as she feels, eyes flicking all over her face. She feels exposed, she wants to hide, but that would mean that Adora stops touching her.

Adora tries again, “Catra what are we -”

“Adora please, I - I need to feel like someone cares about me.” She’s too tired, drained, broken to stop the words coming out. Too exhausted to lie outright and save herself. 

She just needs her, wants her with everything she has and if it has to be pretend then it’ll fucking be pretend. She’ll have Adora anyway she can, something is always better than nothing. Just like how ‘enemy’ was better than ‘stranger’. 

She’s not expecting Adora to whimper at the words, less so is she expecting her to kiss her again. She doesn’t know how many times the world can end within the same minute but it does so; it crumbles and rebuilds itself behind her closed eyes. 

“I care about you Catra. I always have, I promise you I never stopped caring.” 

She cries behind closed lips. It sounds like Adora’s begging her to believe it. And it’s that ‘promise’ that might just make her do so. 

Distantly she knows the only reason she’s sitting upright is because of Adora’s hands on her shoulder blades, burning the reason from her head. She doesn’t care. Adora pulls her closer somehow and she realises that in spite of how fucked up everything is, how broken they both are, how hurt and miserable she is, that she’s _happy_ too. It’s not the light innocence of childhood, not the easiness of their lifelong friendship but she’s fucking _happy_ here with Adora kissing her.

She wants to hold her tighter, she wants to see her; she doesn’t know what she wants. Everything is too much and not enough. She wants Adora’s hands in her hair, her arms to never leave her, for her to tell her she forgives her. She wants Adora as desperate and in love as she feels. It’ll never happen, she knows that. But by the gods can she pretend, here, with Adora in her lap, hands running nervous paths between her shoulders. She hopes with everything she has that this might mean _something_ to Adora when it’s over. But she’ll never know for sure because she’ll never ask. She’s always been a coward when it’s come to Adora. 

Something has prevented her from realising that she’s been purring for the past few minutes. She doesn’t care what. Adora’s back (just for this moment) and she’s the only one she’ll let hear this. 

“Wait Catra, I -” 

Adora pulls back and there’s an unmistakable glow in her eyes. And it scares Catra, has her blood turning to ice in her chest; the last time she’d seen those eyes they’d promised hurt and revenge. It must show because that light flickers out and Catra can breathe again. Whatever it is they’re doing is so unbelievably fragile, she feels like she’ll shatter if Adora stops touching her. She doesn’t, hands holding Catra’s in a grip that might crush her (she wouldn’t care.)

“I can - I can feel her. She-Ra. She’s still here I - you -” 

She doesn’t mean for her claws to snap out but it’s that _name_. She can’t hear it right now, can’t think about anything that broke them (she hates knowing it wasn’t the only thing.) Catra follows the movement of Adora’s throat when she swallows. Adora has every reason to think that she’ll hurt her, but she’s wrong. For once Adora is wrong. 

“I don’t want She-Ra.” 

_’I just want you.’_ She tries to get the meaning across with another kiss. She knows she’ll never be able to say it to her face (and that Adora doesn’t want to hear it.) Her hands find their way to Adora’s back with the need to just _keep_ her. 

Adora whispers against her lips, “Think you’re the only person who would ever say that.” 

She can’t read what Adora’s feeling and it hurts - she used to know her inside out - but she’s sure there’s a sadness in the small smile Catra feels. She doesn’t understand, she never has, how people can only see in Adora what She-Ra can do for them. She-Ra is _nothing_ compared to the woman who wields her. 

The world doesn’t end again but instead goes dark. Night falls on this moment and she knows, she _knows_ whatever reprieve from reality she’s just been gifted is over. She surprises herself when she doesn’t respond to the last kiss that gets pressed to her lips. The hand that lies on the side of her face hesitantly tilts her head so she has to meet ocean eyes. Adora doesn’t say anything but Catra can read the resignation in her face. 

They should go. They should never do this again. No matter how much she wants them to. But she succumbs to her own selfishness once again, leaning into Adora’s hand for the first and last time and all she can think is: 

_’They don’t deserve you.’_

_‘And neither do I.’_

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a sucker for sad angsty kisses that don't make anything better and just make everything that little bit more complicated.
> 
> I could've spent this time working on the main fic before I go back to school but guess what bitches I didn't and wrote Catradora making out instead because I'm stupid.


End file.
